


The Unbearable Lightness of Severus

by Toodleoo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Professors, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6806572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toodleoo/pseuds/Toodleoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a mystery, you see. Nobody knew why Professors Snape and Granger had become inseparable overnight. </p><p>They didn't figure it out, but <i>I</i> did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unbearable Lightness of Severus

Minerva McGonagall choked on her shortbread when she first saw it.

Sybil Trelawney ran out of the Great Hall, sobbing.

The students merely gaped, slack-jawed.

What was _it_ , you may ask? What could possibly have stunned the entire population of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

The answer may surprise you, especially if you're one of those who believes all the stories you read about the headmaster. _You_ know the ones. They say that he sacrificed everything he'd ever had for a dead woman. They also say that he's still madly in love with her, and that he'll never care for another woman as long as he lives.

So it was more than a bit alarming when Severus Snape strode into breakfast with his arm wrapped tightly around the waist of Professor Hermione Granger.

What you don't know—what _nobody_ else knew—was why.

* * *

 

Headmaster Snape was a reserved man even after he'd been handed accolades and money after the war. Brusque, gruff, even distant. He'd accepted the cold, hard Galleons the Ministry threw at him as a means of expiating their guilt. He'd even accepted his old job at Hogwarts, determined to show the world that he was not the barbaric man who had presided over Alecto and Amycus Carrow during that last, terrible year. After debating on whether or not it was a good idea, he'd sold the house at Spinner's End, mostly because he finally could move on from the childhood memories that had trapped him there.

He taught a little.

He wrote a bit.

He experimented some.

And for the most part, Severus Snape was at peace.

Unlike Dumbledore, Snape chose to teach a few of the upper year classes in Potions and Defense. At that level, he realized, they approximated competent human beings. As long as the O.W.L.s weeded out the treacherous cases, he'd be happy to deal with the brightish students of Hogwarts. Well, he'd tolerate it. He also documented his history in the war, developed and patented a new and improved Wolfsbane Potion, and—after finding that he still had too much free time on his hands—learned to play the lute.

For a time, this was enough. His students were acceptable in the classroom, it had taken a few years to scribble out his autobiography, and after he'd finally figured out how to keep the damned lute in tune, the instrument hadn't proven hard to master. By the age of 46, Snape was bored out of his mind. He needed a challenge to keep him on his toes, so he sought out different things to do.

He taught an apprentice for the first time, a clever girl who was related to the Delacour family.

He wrote a new Potions textbook and redesigned the Defense curriculum at Hogwarts.

He experimented on some truly radical aspects of magic.

And for the first time in years, Severus found a kind of contentment that he never thought he'd have. Mademoiselle Barrineau was completing her own research on healing potions under his guidance, and have proven herself a worthy student. All of his reforms to the Hogwarts curriculum were being taught by the able-bodied Professor Granger, who had been the hire of the century when Hogwarts had been rebuilding; using leverage from her former Head of House, Severus had snatched Granger out of the clutches of the Ministry and had already delegated Arithmancy and Muggle Studies to her care. As for his experiments, well, he was almost ready with a potion that allowed the person drinking it to take to flight, much as he could fly himself.

* * *

Where was I? Oh, yes. Headmaster Snape, with his arm wound securely around Professor Granger. It was quite a sight to see. He wasn't overtly demonstrative with her—didn't kiss her cheek or breathe in the scent of her hair as a lover might. As far as anyone could tell, there wasn't much affection in the embrace at all.

They walked up to the Head Table, slowly and steadily, and when they arrived, they sat down beside one another, releasing their hold on one another. They didn't speak at all. Instead, both brought reading material to the table: a journal for him and a novel for her.

All eyes were on the pair throughout the meal, and questions rumbled through the masses: Was the Headmaster dating the Professor? How long had they been seeing one another? Did he hire her just to be closer to her?

The students' focus returned to their sausages and eggs in short order.

The staff members, however, were a different story. Oh, they were quiet enough during breakfast. Nobody would dare challenge Snape on anything he did, and Miss Granger's character was beyond reproach. The professors made a point of ignoring the new couple during the meal itself, and they all watched the pair out of the corners of their eyes when, at the end of the meal, Snape and Granger stood up, wrapped their arms around one another again, and strolled out of the hall.

The speculation that filled their offices and private quarters afterwards could make a sailor blush.

* * *

I was in the dungeons when I heard a commotion in what was usually an empty classroom. It seemed like it was worth investigating.

"Are you any closer to finding a solution?" a woman's voice asked.

"No," he snapped, a bitter and angry edge to the word. "Is this ruse hampering your burgeoning love life, Professor Granger?"

 _Ah_ , I thought. Snape and Granger. I slipped in through the door to watch the scene unfold.

The pair were standing beside a steel work table heavy laden with vials and bottles and controlled flames. Headmaster Snape was stirring two separate cauldrons, his hands moving in contrary motion with the utmost control and precision. Professor Granger was kneeling at his feet, adjusting a black harness that tethered his feet to the ground.

"Severus," she said, her voice gentle, as if she were taming a wild beast, "I will be by your side as long as you need me."

"Yes, well, I certainly appreciate your _sacrifice_ , Granger." He spat out the words as though they were poison.

A flash of hurt showed on her face, and she sighed. "You stupid, stupid man. It's not a sacrifice." Then she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning around and letting herself out.

I withdrew myself before either of them had cause to notice me. They didn't need to know they had been seen.

* * *

Weeks went by, and Professor Granger and Headmaster Snape were still inseparable.

They walked arm in arm down the corridors of the school. They sat side by side at every meal, every sporting event, and every school function. It wasn't just that they sought out one another's company, but that they were always touching, and it was more than merely holding hands. It was Professor Granger, threading her arm through the crook of his elbow. Eventually, it was the headmaster's arm wrapped around Professor Granger's shoulders, and the two of them sharing a blanket at the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch match.

The only time they weren't together was when they were teaching.

None of Professor Granger's students ever saw Snape in the Arithmancy or Muggle Studies classrooms.

Snape's students, on the other hand, would catch their pretty young professor outside of the Headmaster's classes. She was usually in the hall, pacing to and fro while she waited for them to leave. She respected his space and never entered his classroom or his office when he was speaking with students. After the last student exited, Professor Granger slipped inside to reunite with the headmaster.

* * *

On another occasion, I overheard the two as they walked the halls together long after the students' curfew. This night, his left arm was slung over her shoulder, and her right arm lay low across his back. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"It's been two months, Hermione," he stated. His fingers played with a seam on her robes, a sure sign of his familiarity with her person. "It should have worn off by now."

"I don't mind," she insisted.

"When I asked you for your assistance," he replied, "I assumed that it would be for a day, a week at most. Just time enough to brew an antidote or wait for the potion's effects to subside. You never agreed to this."

"I'm still glad you asked me," she said.

"I can't be a burden to you," he said. "I won't."

She stopped walking and squeezed his torso, looking up at his face. She cupped his cheek with her free hand and smiled at the man. The warmth I saw in their gaze stopped me cold; I was intruding on something private, something dear and secretive. Something that was not for me. "Perhaps I've been smuggling you extra doses, Severus. This way, I have an excuse to be near you."

I fled before I could make out his response.

* * *

I thought the pair was terribly romantic.

So many people have walked these halls over the centuries, and so many of them have been unhappy in love. Most of the heartbreak is of the innocent, teenaged variety, the kind of despair that feels like a vice tightening around your chest, making it impossible to breathe. The kind of ache that comes quickly, with intensity, but the kind that also passes away just as quickly when the next person smiles your way.

Many of the staff are alone, and some of them are lonely, but the headmasters of Hogwarts seem particularly cursed. I've seen dozens of headmasters and headmistresses come and go, and only a handful of them ever found their match in this life.

Who am I to talk? I certainly never found love in my time.

Among all the headmasters and headmistresses, though, Severus Snape lived an usually difficult life. Knowing what I did about his childhood at the castle and his own youthful heartbreak, it was a delight to see a young woman seek him out and bestow her affections on him. In her company, he seemed lighter. At times, he laughed. He was more patient with those around him, even when their stupidity would have otherwise provoked his anger.

She blossomed. I'd always felt like I could understand Hermione Granger: her intensity, her inquisitive nature, and her desire to control her own world. With the headmaster as her companion, she seemed relaxed in a way she had never been as a girl.

I was curious about the pair, naturally, but I tried to respect some sort of boundaries where they were concerned. As far as I could tell, everyone in the castle shared this interest. The young girls of Ravenclaw chatted in the common room about their romance. Were they living together? Would they marry? Would they have children? Would there be babies at Hogwarts?

* * *

It was not until the spring that I noticed the oddity of his movements. Perhaps it was harder to spot because he had always possessed a poetic quality of movement. Perhaps it was because I had been distracted by the question of their great romance. Whatever the reason, it was not until many months had passed that I finally watched his feet when he walked.

They didn't always touch the ground.

Oh, some part of his foot connected with the floor below him, but there was no weight to his step. He moved as no living man moved. He moved as we move.

He moved as _I_ move.

* * *

In May, they started wearing matching gold rings.

None of the students caught the change right away. There was no announcement that the war heroine had taken a husband, no declaration from the Head Table that the headmaster had taken a bride. You shouldn't blame the children for this oversight. They were distracted by the fact that for the first time in months, Headmaster Snape and Professor Granger walked to the Head Table separately.

_They were apart._

He came in first, you see, his shoes clacking on the flagstone floor and his robes billowing out behind him. When he pulled his seat up to the table, the other professors cast long glances at one another, as if daring each other to ask Headmaster Snape about the absence of Professor Granger.

Sybil Trelawney had an enormous grin, an expression of hope on her peculiar face.

A few minutes later, Professor Granger walked into the hall and seated herself beside the man. Before anyone else could say a word, she leaned over and sweetly kissed the headmaster on the lips. His cheeks acquired a soft tinge, but he returned her affections.

"Good morning," she whispered.

" _Good_ morning?" he asked in reply. "This is the best of all possible mornings."

Trelawney's face fell again as the couple shared another brief kiss.

The morning owls flew in with the mail, causing enough of a diversion to redirect everyone's attention back to themselves. They polished off their respective toasts and eggs, drank their teas, gathered their bags, and tromped off to their classes.

When Camilla Pemberton first spied the glint of the band on her headmaster's hand, he had been correcting her stirring technique in the first N.E.W.T. class of the morning.

The entire school knew by lunchtime.

* * *

I have my suspicions, of course.

The potion for flight? The tethers? The levity of his movement? The way that Professor Granger was always by his side when he needed to move around the castle?

It shouldn't have taken me so long to put the pieces together, but I was distracted by their love story. I am renowned for my wisdom, after all, even without my mother's diadem.

Whatever had happened for those months was over now. The headmaster returned to his old self once he was married, the weight in his limbs returning. _She grounded him_ , you see.

As for his work, Snape never released any potions that played with flying.

His experiments are much more practical these days: can one automate a stirring station for hours in order to sit with a napping baby? Can one childproof the moving staircases of Hogwarts, encouraging the castle to catch a stray Snapling as he ran between his mummy's classroom and his daddy's office?

But you don't know any of my suspicions. You don't need to know any of this!

All you need to know is that they lived happily ever after.

* * *


End file.
